She's a Beauty, He's a Beast
by Imagine5.0
Summary: Draco finds Hermione ready to be sold as a slave, and with no apparent reason takes her in. No doubt, the beginning of their relationship is rocky, but soon, Draco sees the beauty and her, and Hermione just might heal Draco in ways he never knew he could be healed. Dramione.
1. Chapter 1: To the Manor

She's a Beauty, He's a Beast

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Summary: Draco finds Hermione ready to be sold as a slave, and with no apparent reason takes her in. No doubt, the beginning of their relationship is rocky, but soon, Draco sees the beauty and her, and Hermione just might heal Draco in ways he never knew he could be healed. Dramione 3

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Chapter 1: To the Manor

Hermione had no idea how things could've been so wrong. They had it, they were _so_ close to defeating Voldemort, and yet, they we _so _far away. And every night, locked her cage covered with a dark, musty old cloth, Hermione had to face the fact that they had _lost, _that Ron and Harry were in Azkaban now, probably drained of their souls. Every single night, Hermione cursed the beings of all the death eaters, Voldemort, but mostly, she cursed herself. She had let the world down.

Hermione was knocked out of her thoughts when she heard a death eater approach her cage.

"We don't have many left, Mister Malfoy," the death eater sneered. "But here's one we think may be of best use."

The death eater ripped off the cloth, as if she were some exhibit in a garbage museum. Blinded from the light Hermione has not seen in weeks, and humiliated, she backed away farther into the cage at curled up into a ball. The death eater racked the cage violently.

"Look up, _slave_," he demanded. "Look up, _you filthy mudblood_."

Hermione held her ground, not wanting to show any weakness. She had lost so much already, she would not lose her dignity. Never.

"_Crucio_!" The man screamed, and Hermione was thrown on her back, pain searing through her heart and her mind as, like a bolt of lightning, memories of Ron and Harry and she laughing in the fields of Hogwarts appeared in her mind, and then were quickly stripped away as quickly as they had come.

Hermione was crying, indeed. But not from the physical pain. From the emotional pain. She looked up, her face close to the cage. And then, and then she noticed someone. Cold, grey eyes were boring into her lifeless brown ones, with in difference, not a single emotion could be spotted. Her eyes narrowed. It was _him_. Draco _fucking_ Malfoy, the bane of her existence, her tormentor, like her own personal Satan.

"Smart one, she is, smart and strong yes, and I bet, Mister Malfoy, if you clean her up a bit, she can be _very,_" the death eater took her chin in his hand. "_Pretty."_

She spit on him. He slapped her.

"Unfortunately, she can be quite a bit of a smart-ass."

"Entirely too familiar my good sir, entirely too familiar." Malfoy's voice had shivers running up her back. It was dangerous, too dangerous. Draco took her chin in his slender hand gently through the bars. He couldn't help but notice how thin she was. "How much for this one?" He asked the death eaters, his eyes still boring through hers.

The death eater was surprised; he thought Draco would want a more prestige slave, not a mudblood.

"Mister Malfoy, we have some very nice-looking half-blood breeds—"

Draco stood up, removing his hand from Hermione's chin and repeated in a haunting voice, "_How much for the fucking mudblood?_"

The man was shaking. "2 galleons, sir, 2 galleons."

Draco flicked to golden coins into the death eaters hands and waved him off with his slender hand. "Have a _grand_ day." He sneered.

Once the death eater exited the room, Draco looked at Hermione through the cage, his eyes unreadable. "Good morning, Granger."

"Fuck off." She replied hoarsely. That was the first she had spoken in a week.

Draco's eyes quickly flashed angrily, and he cupped Hermione's chin again, much harder than he did before. "You will listen, Granger, if you do not wish to be hurt. You are my _slave _now, and shall do as I say, understood?"

Hermione just stared at him. The anger in his grey stare lessened, and so did his hold on her jaw. He carefully unlocked the cage with a silent _'alohamora'_ and made way for Hermione to exit the cage. She made no move.

Draco Malfoy knew she was stubborn, but he also had some experience on how her stubbornness can cloud her common sense. He sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"Granger," he started, gently, reaching out for her through the cage. She recoiled back. "Would you rather stay here with that man or eat some decent food instead of stale bread and muddy water?"

Her head snapped up immediately, her brown eyes burning with intensity that she had not acquired in weeks. She didn't understand why he was being so, so well, _not_ unkind to her, considering she is his slave now. She knew he probably had some ulterior motives, probably going to practice some unforgivable on her or, or…

"What do you care, Malfoy? What the bloody hell are you doing _caring_? Do you know how horrible you made the world, just by helping your bloody Dark Lord and his gang of fuck-wits." She sneered.

"I never said I cared, _Mudblood_. Get out of the fucking cage." He replied, deadly calm.

Without waiting for her to climb out herself, he yanked her wrist and ignored her yelp, dragging her out of her cage and side-along Apparating to their destination.

Hermione had not Apparated in such a long time, that when they landed, she immediately turned to the side a puked for what seemed like hours. She retched, and retched as if it would rid of all her nightmares, even though it was a ridiculous thought, considering one of her biggest nightmares was right beside her.

She turned and looked up, and gasped.

It was the Malfoy Manor.

She unconsciously looked at her left upper arm, for under that distressed sleeve was a scar that constantly reminded her how unwelcome she was to this world. This scar reminded her of her defeat, and how much her efforts were wasted. She was _mudblood_, she was constantly reminded. She was dirty, tainted, a piece of swine.

"It's almost funny really," she said quietly to herself. "How when I got this scar, there wasn't any mud in the blood that I shed." A tear fell down her cheek, and she angrily wiped it away, looking down at the cold stone pathway before the rusty gate.

Draco analyzed the girl standing in front of him. He knew she still thought him to be an immature bastard. Heck, we still _was_ an immature bastard, just a smarter one. He really was just bored and looking for a, hmm, should we say 'playmate'? But he saw her and he saw how miserable she looked in that rusty cage, and how hungrily the man had looked at her, and under some impulse, he bought her. And now he didn't know what to do.

He didn't know why he bought her. Actually, he did, but he didn't want to admit it to himself.

Granger was a walking stick, her bones sticking out from all areas where he could see, and her hair was more like a bird's nest than it ever was. Her eyes were the worst ever. They, they were lifeless. No burning annoying Gryffindor determination, no courage, no, no nothing. No spark. And in truth it scared Draco.

He watched her silently as she stared at the Manor, her eyes widening in fear with a memory that they probably both shared. Draco's thoughts were confirmed when she looked at the arm where they both knew the scar was.

And what Draco heard next was even more haunting.

"It's almost really funny," She whispered under her breath. "How when I got this scar, there wasn't any mud in the blood that I shed."

Draco had the silliest idea to remember that day, in the drawing room, just to confirm. But he had common sense. She was right.

_There wasn't any mud in the blood that she shed._

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Hey Guys! My name's Jade :) Hope you read the summary, and please review. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but try not to flame. Unless it horrible.


	2. Chapter 2: Why?

She's a Beauty, He's a Beast

Chapter 2: Why?

Entering through the dark, ominous gates of the looming Malfoy Manor was more than just a ferocious emotional battle for Hermione. Holding her arm, she took a step forward, just barely crossing the boundary to her new, unwanted fate, and immediately her heart hurt with self-pity and the ripping of her dignity.

She flashed back to when she found out about her acceptance into Hogwarts, and how amazing she knew her adventure in the magical world would be, how special and honored she felt to be accepted into this new world. Hermione had no idea how, how awful it would turn out as well. She couldn't imagine a world with magic to be so dark.

She was so naïve. So very naïve.

However, through everything she had been through, she could not come to regret the magical world, and though the road ahead looked bleak and unpromising, something inside her told her to hang on.

She was very naïve.

She stole a glance a Draco to find him staring stonily ahead; his polished leather should clicking lightly on the perfectly paved gravel. She wondered what he was thinking, how he was feeling, and why he bought her.

Draco sighed inaudibly. Did he feel guilty?

No.

He felt more than guilty. Though he had harbored hate for the girl standing next to him, if one was to look deep into his grey eyes, they would see through his façade and realize that he, in fact, was Crucio-ing himself for bringing the girl back to the place where she had been tortured by his own blood.

To tell the truth, Draco felt guilty for being associated with the downfall of all the good in the world. He felt guilty he had had a hand in aiding Voldemort, the death of Albus Dumbledore, and now, the imprisonment of Hermione Granger, bravest muggleborn. At night, he would lie alone in his bed and wish he could've gone back in time and denied Voldemort, or just kill him. He wished someone would just smite Voldemort. Or smite him, which ever would stop the guilt flow.

Yet, as of now, he was Voldemort's wingman, sent to do all the dirty work.

But Draco has not killed anybody, and he plans to keep that little shred of innocence.

See, Draco was glad he found Hermione, because the moment he saw her bony figure recoiling in the cage, a plan started to formulate in his head.

He has a plan to take down the Dark Lord.

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Some part of Hermione's sadistic mind just can't seem to deny the obvious. When her foot hit the glistening marble floor on the Manor's ginormous entry way, the first word that popped into her mine was _beautiful._ It was like a Tim Burton movie setting.

Dark, ominous, reeking of death. And beautiful. Oh Hermione, what a masochist.

"Granger, I will lead you to your room. A house elf will be there to give you what you need. Then we will have dinner together, and discuss plans." He stated, demanded even.

Hermione's dignity came flaring up again as she was snapped out of her trance.

"No! I will not! Why did you take make here? Why couldn't you just leave me be! I was better off! How dare you Malfoy? How could you sit here, living guilt free like royalty while the rest of the world is slaving? Have you no soul? Nevermind, you probably don't even know what a fuc-"

"Granger!" He growled, with a glint in his eye that made Hermione's fury die down a bit. Draco regained his composure.

"Would you rather sleep in the dungeon? I'm sure there is a cage that can make you feel right at home, slave." His voice got lower, "And if you knew what was good for you and your place in this world, you would shut up and learn to take that which is offered, understood?"

She nodded imperceptibly.

"Follow."

Nod.

Draco led Hermione silently toward a giant staircase, with pictures of the Black and Malfoy family aligned perfectly on the wall. They seemed to sneer at Hermione as she past them, and she put her head down out of shame. She still could not believe how the good had lost.

Each click on the marble floor seemed to grow more and more haunting as they descended up to the chambers.

"West Wing, Granger, is mine. Do not enter."

"Why the hell not Malfoy?" She sneered.

He swiftly turned to face her, easily towering over her figure. "Because I said not to."

Without waiting for a reply, he quickly turned a proceeded, turning toward the east wing and leading her down a hallway with a large chandelier in the middle. They Malfoy's, however evil, had class.

He stopped in front of a pair of double doors on the left of the hallway. Draco open them, revealing large area equipped with a royal bed and magnificent bathroom, and a balcony.

"This is your chamber Granger. Fix it how you would like. And remember dinner."

"And what if I don't attend, Malfoy?" She challenged.

"Would you like to receive the consequences?"

Hermione quietly examined Draco. He had gotten very tall, muscular; but still held a slender build, and his hair wasn't slicked back. His eyes though, always, always guarded.

"You don't scare me Malfoy. Honestly, you are still a coward.

His eyes burned fiercely, his hands clenched into fists by his sides. Why did she have to be so stubborn all the damn time? Draco was not going to waste his time trying to cater to his slave if she was not going to participate.

But then, Draco remembered where she had just come from, where her friends were, and particularly, what had happened in this house just a few weeks before. Who was he to give her a hard time when he knew she had the weight of these and more upon her already frail shoulders.

He sighed. "Dinner, Granger, at 7." Then he stalked out of the room, slamming the doors behind him.

Hermione ran to the bed a finally let the tears out.

Draco stood in front of the doors to the chamber and pondered.

Why was she so stubborn? Why is he doing this? What is she thinking? What is he thinking? Why am I doing this? Why can't I be dead?

Out of all the questions in the heads of the two, the question that they would wonder for a while is quite obvious.

_Why?_

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**_Hey guys! Thanks so much for your reviews and positive encouragement. I'll try to update again! How you like it? Good? Bad? Either way, review, favorite, and follow. Love Jade! Oh, what should they eat for dinner?_**


	3. Chapter 3: Please Come to Dinner

Chapter 3: Please Come to Dinner

Draco willed himself from the doors to Hermione's chamber and quietly made his way down to the dining area, his leather shoes' clacks echoing against the walls of the hollow house.

Hermione was going to be stubborn, but he would have to continue to be the bad guy to get her to cooperate.

"Honestly though, how hard can it be to make her just listen?" Draco whispered under his breath. He took in a deep sigh, remembering that the girl -_woman-_ he was dealing with wasn't just any woman. She was Hermione Granger. Would-be war heroine, brightest witch of their generation.

He was honestly naïve to believe that convincing her would be like eating cake. It'd be more like one trying to feed oneself poison.

"What an accurate analogy," he muttered, passing by a couple of mumbling portraits.

"Mudblood…. Dirty…" he could hear them mutter.

Draco was honestly lost on his opinion on mud-muggleborns. It had been instilled on him since birth and now Draco's own conscious was forming and some nagging part of it was screaming at him about how wrong it was. And Draco was listening to that nagging part. But what was to be expected of him? He had grown-up to believe anyone that wasn't a pureblood was automatically lesser than him, and muggleborns should practically be treated as house-elves are.

When Draco got to the dining area, he drew out the chair at the head of the detailed, mahogany table and gingerly took a seat, thinking—waiting.

The take-down of the Dark Lord will be a challenge, but Draco was his most trusted Death Eater, and Draco could use this to his advantage. But he and Hermione were not enough to stop him. He needed more recruits—and that is where Hermione comes in.

But Draco didn't want to think about it much. He didn't want to think about it at all.

"Sweet Merlin…" He prayed.

Tessa popped into Ms. Granger's room upon Draco's request. Draco didn't like it when Tessa had called him Master. He told Tessa that it made him feel like a slavery-runner, and he was trying to stray away from that. Draco had also told Tessa that he doesn't like to be called Malfoy, or Mr. Malfoy, but when Tessa inquired, he asked her to clean the kitchen.

Tessa observed the scraggily brunette bunched up in a ball in the corner of the king-sized bed royally draped in emerald silk. The girl could be a beauty, with little help, of course,

"Eh hem—" Tessa politely coughed.

Ms. Granger's sobs grew louder and more agonized. In the background, Tessa could hear the dusty grandfather clock begin its second of seven strokes.

"Ms. Granger?"

The girl wailed and wailed, and then, abruptly gathering herself, she sat upright and sank herself in a fit of violent sniffles. Ms. Granger's molten chocolate eyes grew wide at the sight of Tessa, as if she hadn't even noticed the house elf, which she probably didn't because of the wailing protruding from her own mouth.

"I-I'm sorry," Ms. Granger shakily apologized, stopping every now and then to sniffle.

Tessa looked into the sweet, youthful eyes of the girl. See, Tessa had a very powerful gift that nobody even knew. Tessa could look into a person's soul through their eyes. Tessa could see every memory and feeling that the person had ever known, thought, or been through. And the only thing Tessa could feel, at the moment, was fragility and sadness.

And passion.

"May Tessa ask why miss is so sad?" Tessa asked carefully.

Ms. Granger looked into the glowing orbs of Tessa, and took her in carefully.

"Isn't your Master going to be rather upset about this?" She asked.

"He doesn't like me to call him that, Miss."

"What, Master?" Ms. Granger asked, confused.

"Master, or Malfoy."

Hermione took this information carefully.

"Why is Miss so sad?" Tessa asked again, gracefully plopping her feet on the floor, and then plopping her rear on the giant bed right next to the girl.

Hermione sighed. "I, my," her voice started to break.

Frightened, Tessa hastily jumped up from the bed and made her way toward the door and apologized, saying, "Tessa doesn't mean to upset Mi—"

"Please come back, Tessa… I'm dreadfully sorry, I just-" She hung her head low. "I miss them so much."

Tessa slowly made her way from the door and gingerly sat next to Hermione again. "Who, Miss?

"My friends Tessa, they—they are locked up in a horrible prison! Innocent men and women, wizards and witches, each in line ready to get their soul sucked out and I am here, in a big mansion, working as a slave to a _Malfoy_!" She spit the word out.

"Draco isn't that bad—"

"Draco-bloody-Malfoy is the one who put my friends in Azkaban!" She nearly shouted, her eyes burning with and intensity that she had lacked.

The room was silent for a few moments. It hung in the air like a filthy stench.

"Are you coming to dinner then?" Tessa inquired.

"No."

"But—but miss must—"

"Why would I Tessa?" Hermione demanded. "Why in the world would I go to dinner with that filthy rat? After all he has done to me? To my friends? And how about all his 'great' contributions to the muggle and wizard world, hm?"

"Please—"

"No, I'm sorry."

Tessa inwardly sighed. Draco had warned her that this girl was a stubborn one. He also gave Tessa a few tricks on how to convince her.

"You know," Tessa began slyly. "I was asked to convince you to go to dinner. And I'm afraid that since it was a request, if I do not succeed, I will have no choice but to punish myself. Good too."

Hermione looked up, searching Tessa's eyes. "You're not serious!"

"I'd have no free will. Please miss, just bathe and I'll lay out some clothes on the bed. Really it won't be long." Tessa said, walking out the door. She stopped as she turned back to close the door, "If it helps, he asked very nicely to get me to convince you. He even said pretty please with a cherry on top."

Tessa looked into the girl's eyes once more, and found that she had won.

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**I so very sorry about the long wait! Thanks to everyone who hung in there! Love, Jade**


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